Publishing’s Changing Face – by LS Hawker, author, THE DROWNING GAME

Choosing a path

Now that most sales in the book world are digital, it’s important to identify your goals as a writer and choose the right path.

As her debut novel, THE DROWNING GAME, hits the marketplace, I asked LS Hawker to share her thoughts on the topic and why she loves digital first publishing.

 

The Changing Face of Publishing – a writerly tidbit by LS Hawker

Traditional publishing can take up to two years to get your book on the bookstore shelves. Since my novel is being released digitally first, the wait time is much less. My agent sold The Drowning Game to HarperCollins in March, and the book will drop on September 22. From the time I signed with my agent until the release date was only seven months! I love the new publishing model!

 

About the Book

THE DROWNING GAMETHE DROWNING GAME

by LS Hawker

Release Date: 09/22/15

HarperCollins

Summary:

They said she was armed.
They said she was dangerous.
They were right.

Petty Moshen spent eighteen years of her life as a prisoner in her own home, training with military precision for everything, ready for anything. She can disarm, dismember, and kill—and now, for the first time ever, she is free.

Her paranoid father is dead, his extreme dominance and rules a thing of the past, but his influence remains as strong as ever. When his final will reveals a future more terrible than her captive past, Petty knows she must escape—by whatever means necessary.

But when Petty learns the truth behind her father’s madness—and her own family—the reality is worse than anything she could have imagined. On the road and in over her head, Petty’s fight for her life has just begun.

Fans of female-powered thrillers will love debut author LS Hawker and her suspenseful tale of a young woman on the run for her future…and from the nightmares of her past.

 

lshawker_bioAbout the Author:

LS Hawker grew up in suburban Denver, indulging her worrisome obsession with true-crime books, and writing stories about anthropomorphic fruit and juvenile delinquents. She wrote her first novel at 14.
Armed with a B.S. in journalism from the University of Kansas, she had a radio show called “People Are So Stupid,” edited a trade magazine, and worked as a traveling Kmart portrait photographer, but never lost her passion for fiction writing.

Social Media:

Website: http://lshawker.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lisastormeshawker

Twitter: https://twitter.com/LSHawker_Author

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25489952-the-drowning-game

 

Buy the Book

Harper Collins: http://www.harpercollins.com/9780062435170/the-drowning-game

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00WR18RYQ/

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-drowning-game-ls-hawker/1121953921

 

Excerpt

 

Since he’d died on his stomach, the EMTs had turned Dad onto his back. He was in full rigor mortis, so his upper lip was mashed into his gums and curled into a sneer, exposing his khaki-colored teeth. His hands were spread in front of his face, palms out. Dad’s eyes stared up and to the left and his entire face was grape-pop purple.

What struck me when I first saw him—after I inhaled my gum—was that he appeared to be warding off a demon. I should have waited until the mortician was done with him, because I knew I’d never get that image out of my mind.

I walked out of Dad’s room on unsteady feet, determined not to cry in front of these strangers. The deputy and the sheriff stood outside my bedroom, examining the door to it. Both of them looked confused.

“Petty,” Sheriff Bloch said.

I stopped in the hall, feeling even more violated with them so close to my personal items and underwear.

“Yes?”

“Is this your bedroom?”

I nodded.

Sheriff and deputy made eye contact. The coroner paused at the top of the stairs to listen in. This was what my dad had always talked about—the judgment of busybody outsiders, their belief that somehow they needed to have a say in the lives of people they’d never even met and knew nothing about.

The three men seemed to expect me to say something, but I was tired of talking. Since I’d never done much of it, I’d had no idea how exhausting it was.

The deputy said, “Why are there six deadbolts on the outside of your door?”

It was none of his business, but I had nothing to be ashamed of.

“So Dad could lock me in, of course.”

 

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